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  Hell’s brows rose in surprise. “No shit?”

  “No—” My voice turned to a whisper. “—shit.” It wasn’t ladylike to cuss, or so my Nanna had taught me.

  The last man didn’t even stand. He just jerked his chin in my direction. “What’s up?”

  He was rude, the last man. Something about him, the way he hung off the chair he was sitting on, his inattention, and lack of regard spoke volumes. He didn’t care who I was. And that was fine by me.

  Being invisible came naturally to me.

  But he was beautiful, and that made my stomach do a strange and funny thing.

  It shimmied.

  What was that about?

  The man wore black fitted jeans, a black V-neck tee that revealed a plethora of tattoos at his neckline, and a pair of black high-top sneakers. A steel chain hung down the side of his jeans, and he wore a big silver ring on the middle finger of his right hand.

  It was a skull.

  What sought my attention, however, was the small dagger tattooed across his right cheekbone.

  Quickly realizing I was staring, I shrunk in on myself and stupidly repeated what he’d said. However, while he sounded totally confident, my voice shook. “What’s up?”

  Noah kicked out at the man and when his foot connected with rude guy’s shin, the guy let out a sound of pure annoyance. “What was that for?”

  Noah glared at him.

  The man clicked his tongue then looked at me, really looked at me.

  Oh God, don’t do that!

  My stomach bottomed out.

  When he spoke, it sounded forced. “I’m Connor. Nice to meet you, Emily.” The way he said my name was as if I were a plague on his very being.

  “Likewise,” I uttered as quietly as possible without actually muting my speech.

  It felt like an awkward silence was about to ensue when Lee spoke directly to me. “How old are you, Emily?”

  “I’m twenty-three.”

  “You look like you’re twelve,” Connor stared, making a show of looking me up and down, his light brown eyes invasive. It was nerve-wracking to say the least. I didn’t like the way his lip curled, revealing his teeth.

  I liked teeth, and his were straight, and white, and perfect.

  For some reason, my go-to response was, “Sorry.”

  Hell scowled at him from the sofa. “No, she doesn’t.” The sweet Viking turned back to me, and spoke gently, “No, you don’t.”

  That was nice. And in that moment, I felt my nerves decrease.

  Lee smiled softly. “Are you excited?” At my confusion, his face became void of emotion. “About being on tour?”

  Oh, that. I didn’t know what to say, which is probably why I said what I did. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  Noah grinned.

  Hell watched me closely a second before he tipped his head back and let out a booming laugh. He laughed a long time and showed no sign of stopping. When his laugh finally gentled, he chuckled, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He cracked up all over again. “I think I like you, Emily.”

  Noah, the traitor, decided to inform them of my folly. “Emily here has never heard of Left Turn.”

  The silence that surrounded us was thick and suffocating.

  My chest began to ache and when they continued to look at me the way they did, a lump formed in my throat.

  My face fell as I looked around the room to each of the men. “I’m sorry.”

  The mean guy, Connor, stared at me, wearing an expression I could only describe as sheer skepticism.

  Lee spoke first, and he spoke softly, “And it all makes sense.”

  I quickly rushed out, “It says nothing about you, I swear. I-I just don’t listen to the radio or read trashy tabloids or even watch a lot of TV.” I was beginning to sweat. And hyperventilate. “I’m sure you guys are great.” I was panicking. “Just great.”

  “We are,” Connor stated.

  “Ah, don’t sweat it, little bird,” said Hell. “It’s all good.”

  “It’s kind of refreshing, actually,” added Lee.

  Um, huh?

  They weren’t mad?

  My eyes darted from man to man.

  Okay. They weren’t mad.

  My heart rate began to slow.

  What a relief.

  I tried to steady my breathing when my focus turned to the framed silver record mounted on the wall. “Is this yours?” I asked, sliding my backpack off my shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, approaching the plaque slowly.

  “Yeah.” This was Lee.

  I read the record out loud. “Left Turn. Black Death.” But then I kept reading. “Platinum album. In recognition of over one million album sales.” My eyes widened and I turned back to them, blinking. “One million album sales?”

  They just smiled.

  Connor, however, did not.

  “Wow,” I said shakily. “That’s amazing.”

  Oh no.

  These guys were a big deal.

  This tour was a big deal.

  Not only were they beautiful people—they were famous beautiful people.

  Big deals.

  My heart began to thump all over the place to a lively jazz beat that no one other than myself seemed to hear.

  I turned to the framed picture beside the record, and what I saw made my stomach flip-flop. It showed the back of the band and the crowd they performed to. “That’s a lot of people,” I stated feebly.

  “Wembley Stadium,” Hell explained. “The first concert sold out so fast we had to book another show.” There was so much pride lining his voice but I was too busy freaking out to share in it.

  My stomach clenched painfully and I felt the blood begin to drain out of my face. “That’s so cool,” I said, but my voice wavered.

  My breathing got heavy.

  Another framed picture. I raised a shaking finger. “Noah?” I stated weakly, near panting, “That’s you.” I could feel the beads of perspiration forming at my temples.

  “Hey.” He was beside me in an instant. “Are you okay?”

  My hands shook, as I whispered, “I think I need to sit down.”

  Noah guided me to the sofa and I sat still, trying to control my breathing. A glass of water was thrust into my hands. I drank the whole thing in one long pull and some of it dribbled down my chin. As I sat there, staring down at the shiny white coffee table, I muttered, “You guys are big. Like, famous.”

  And then it hit me.

  It hit me hard.

  Groaning, I raised my hands to cover my face. “Oh my God. You must think I’m the biggest idiot.”

  Noah sat beside me, rubbing my back. “No.”

  Connor laughed. “Yeah.” I spun to face him. “It just hit ya, didn’t it? You’re in the presence of greatness and you don’t know how to feel.”

  I was embarrassed and because I didn’t like how that felt, I couldn’t help but glare at Noah. “You lied to me.”

  He looked into my eyes. “Like you lied at the interview?”

  My face gave me away before I had a chance to. “How did you know?”

  “A simple check told me you didn’t come from either of the agencies we hired.” His expression begged me to disagree and when I didn’t, he smiled. “You weren’t meant to be there, Emily.”

  “Then—” Shame burrowed its way into my chest and sat there like a rock. “—why did you interview me?” More importantly, “Why did you hire me?”

  “Because not only did you fit the role better than anyone else—” He paused a moment then smirked. “—but it took balls to do what you did. I figured if you were desperate enough to gatecrash an interview without knowing anything about the job, you needed the work.”

  Truthfully, I was glad it was all out in the open. Still, it didn’t make me feel any better about what I’d done.

  It wasn’t in my nature to be dishonest.

  A sudden cringe took me by
surprise. I wrung my fingers together. “I am so sorry.” My cringe transformed into a wince. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t think you’d actually hire me.”

  “Do you still want the job?”

  Noah waited patiently for an answer.

  God. I didn’t want the job.

  I needed this job. I needed it so badly.

  I peered up at him, nodding. My voice was small. “Yes.”

  “Great,” stated Noah, helping me stand. “Then let’s go upstairs, finish the paperwork, and Amber can lay down what the role of assistant actually entails. Sound good?”

  Did that sound good?

  A small smile forced itself onto my lips. “Sounds great.”

  Noah held out his arm and I used him as a crutch. Just as I reached for my backpack, he stated, “Ah, just leave it. No one will take it.”

  As we left the room, Helmer called out, “Bye, Emily!”

  A surprised laugh escaped me. “Bye, Helmer.” I quickly added, “Bye, Lee.”

  Lee responded, “See ya, kid.”

  And for the first time in my life, I actually felt good about lying.

  After all, it got me a job, didn’t it?

  ***

  Connor

  My glare was fierce as I watched the little woman leave the room.

  The second I heard footsteps trailing the stairs, I turned to Lee and stated, “What the fuck, dude? Are we seriously going to have that around the entire tour?”

  Lee blinked at me. “What’s wrong with her?”

  Hell came out of the fridge, peeling a banana. “I like her.”

  My nose bunched. “That’s just because she called you a Viking and spouted some bullshit about your name.”

  He bit into the banana, chewing slowly. “She wasn’t lying. I googled it.”

  “Whatever.” I clearly wasn’t getting any help from these two morons. Without thinking, I crossed the room and took hold of her worn denim backpack. “Oh, look.” I turned it around and ran my hand under the bedazzled name on the front. “Emily.” My bark of laughter was cruel, rough, and when my expression fell, I scowled down at the offending item. “Seriously? How old is she? Seven?” I was becoming more furious by the second and when I spotted the big white button, I started to laugh.

  Closing my eyes, I lifted my head and chuckled even though it pained me. “She literally has a pin that says, Having fun isn’t hard—” I paused, staring at my band mates. “—when you’ve got a library card. No shit. It literally says that.” I blinked then whisper-hissed, “She sounds like a fucking psycho!”

  Lee blew out a breath. “Give her a break, man. I think she’s cute.”

  She was cute.

  I didn’t like that.

  With her long dark brown hair worn in a messy high ponytail and those thick-framed glasses, her big blue eyes and long lashes, the loose T-shirt, and baggy jeans. She didn’t wear makeup. I didn’t know what to make of her.

  Was she for real?

  She’d never heard of Left Turn?

  Please. I call bullshit in the first degree.

  Everyone had heard of us.

  I had a lot of involvement with women and, from personal experience, I knew females lied. She was convincing, sure, but I didn’t trust her.

  She might already have the other guys by the balls, but not me.

  My guard was up.

  I’d just have to keep a close eye on this girl.

  Whatever she was up to, I’d figure it out.

  Chapter Three

  Dry Your Eyes.

  Emily

  After learning that Amber, Micah’s wife, was the previous assistant to Left Turn, things started to fall into place. Micah explained that although he was the band’s manager, he wouldn’t be joining us on tour, because Amber was so heavily pregnant. In fact, she was only weeks away from her due date.

  Noah assured Micah it was fine but I could see that Micah didn’t like the idea of managing from afar. Neither did Amber. They were a team and I could feel their sadness at being kept from their jobs. But this was an exciting time for them and I wanted to assure them I was up for this, that I was capable.

  Micah and Noah left us alone and Amber took the opportunity to fill me in on the job’s role.

  “So.” Amber moaned as she lifted her swollen feet onto the pouffe. “It’s pretty much straightforward.” She looked uncomfortable as she reached for her ankle.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, not at all liking her discomfort.

  “Oh, it’s fine. All part of the growing a baby thing.” Amber looked miserable. “My feet are killing me.”

  I didn’t hesitate. “Would you like a foot rub?”

  Her head snapped up. “What?” She frowned. “No, don’t worry about it.” When she realized I was serious, the frown fell and she smiled. “You’re very sweet to offer though.”

  But I dragged my chair closer. “Honestly, it’s no problem. I rub my nanna’s feet all the time.” I gently took her swollen foot in my hands. “She has bad circulation.”

  Amber tried to decline. “Really, I’m f—” But then I started to work my thumbs into the soles of her foot. Her head fell back and she groaned, then breathed out, “Oh my God, that feels amazing.” She lifted her head and a look of pure bliss crossed her features. “You’re an angel.”

  I smiled shyly. “You’re welcome.”

  Amber took in a deep breath then started again. “Okay, like I said, it’s all pretty straightforward. Your job is to do everything the boys don’t want to.”

  My brows lowered and she laughed. “I know. It doesn’t sound very appealing, does it? But you have to understand that while on tour, they don’t really stop. There are rehearsals then the shows. After the shows, there are normally parties or—” She made a face. “—girls to occupy them. Then they go to sleep and do it all over again. The days they aren’t performing, they’re doing promo, and believe me, it gets tiring.”

  Okay. Fair enough. That did sound exhausting. “So what do I need to know?”

  “Oh, honey. I can’t possibly prepare you for what you’re going to experience but I will tell you a few things that might make the transition a little easier.” She took in a deep breath, rubbing her belly. Reaching behind her, she tossed me a notepad and pen. I got the hint, relinquished her swollen foot and the second my pen was at the ready, she started, “Every morning, you need to be in their rooms by seven. Sometimes the suite will be an absolute mess, sometimes it won’t. They will leave dirty clothes outside of their doors and you’ll make sure they get cleaned, folded, and returned to their rooms.” I nodded as I wrote. Okay. That sounded easy enough. “They don’t label their clothing, so it might take you a while to work out each guy’s style, but you’ll get there.”

  That’s all? “That sounds okay.”

  “Emily.” Amber chuckled. “That was the easy part.”

  Oh.

  “Every morning, you’ll enter the suite as quietly as you can, get four glasses of juice ready for them and set them on the counter. The night before you’ll order their breakfast, which needs to be delivered by 7:30 a.m. and not a second later. Now, they don’t drink coffee but energy drinks are a must, even at breakfast time. A late lunch will follow. They rarely eat dinner on tour. You’ll have to make sure their dressing rooms are stocked with all their favorite snacks in case they get hungry. After the show, you’re likely not needed because they’ll be busy with groupies, but—” She licked her lips. “—you’ll be needed the next morning,” she uttered rather cryptically.

  And my brow knitted.

  “What does that mean?” I was confused.

  “Well,” she muttered. “Some mornings, you’re going to need to clear out the riffraff.”

  I wasn’t catching on. “Riffraff?”

  Amber laid it on me. “Groupies. Women. Band bashers,” she stated, watching for my reaction. When I didn’t give her one, she went on. “The boys will bring
girls back to the suite. They’ll spend the night with them and then, because they’re great big cowards, you’ll likely be expected to clear them out.”

  I don’t think I liked that. “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh,” Amber stated sympathetically. “Been there, done that. Not a great part of the job. However, after the shows, you’re free to do as you like. You’re officially off duty unless they call which, in my experience, they won’t. The next day, you’ll do it all over again.” Her grin was wide but her tone was weak, “Hooray.”

  Oh gosh. The question came out tentatively. “And h-how long is the tour?”

  Amber tipped her head back and laughed openly. “Oh, honey.” She reached out to pat my shoulder. “You’re going to do fine. If you need anything at all, any help or you’re unsure what to do in a particular instance, you can call or text me. I’ll give you all my numbers.”

  Yes. I was starting to like Amber.

  “Thank you.” I was grateful for the show of support. “I don’t know a lot about the band.” I felt like a snoop. “Maybe you can tell me a little about them?”

  “Sure. Let’s start with Noah. Lead singer, guitarist,” she stated as I took her foot back in my hands and began to massage. “Noah Gamble is like the dad of the band. If it weren’t for him, Left Turn would be nothing and the guys know it. He worked his butt off to get them to this point. Serious by nature, each guy plays an important part, but Noah is like their CEO.

  “Next, we have Lee Vegas, bass and backup vocals. He and Noah grew up together, went to the same school and both graduated music. He’s got this cool little boy-next-door thing going on. Keeps to himself mainly but can’t stand injustice to women and sometimes gets involved where he isn’t needed.” She whispered co-conspiratorially, “He’s working on that.”

  “Then comes our big teddy bear, Helmer Novak, on drums. You saw him, he’s huge. But he’s the sweetest of the bunch. So easy to talk to. If you get the chance, spare a minute and get to know him. Hell is an open book, very loving and affectionate. And oftentimes—” She smiled, wide-eyed. “—you’ll have to clear more than one woman out of his room. He swears he’s not into the multiple partner scene, so I don’t know what they do all night. All I know is that those women leave looking like heaven is Helmer Novak’s tongue.” She winked. “If you get what I mean.”